The Schism
Part 1
Text by JDLong
Illustration by tawny.
Before you start, a quick word from the author... This story is set in a world in which Demonia exist. For some, I hope that sentence has quickened the pulse and dilated pupils. Conceivably, it has produced a gasp of excitement, or perhaps, at the very least, a smile of delight.
For others, it may have caused a furrowed brow of confusion and the instant question; What is a Demonia?
Well, no spoilers here. Essentially it is all explained within. You don't need to know in advance. This tale can stand on its own. But... There are two other stories (to date) featuring Demonia. You can read them first or look them up later, but be aware they exist within the same timeline as this tale, and there is a little cross-pollination.
Now armed with that primer, please revel in Tawny's glorious art and hopefully enjoy my humble prose...
Demonia I : artuntamed.com/index.php?media…
Demonia II:
When I look back, I cannot believe what a naive young woman was. I mean, sure, I was full of piss and vinegar, and I was utterly convinced I was going to change the world. I had my degree in Eastern European History, ink still wet, framed on the wall. I had a close circle of friends. Incredibly, I had a healthy bank account, a rare thing for a graduate, even back in the Eighties. The one thing I did not have was a clue. I see it now in the eyes of the initiates. The same look I used to have, in my youth, when I stared into a mirror.
My downfall was my fascination with vampire stories. In my studies, I'd bumped into the myths often. Often enough to believe there was something at the root of all the tales. What, I did not know. But it gnawed at my hindbrain. Enough that my ears would prick up at the mere mention of the word or anything to do with tales of supernatural forces from Eastern Europe.
Of course, when I found what I was looking for, I did not recognise it until it was far too late. But then, they were nothing like I imagined. My 'vampires' did not drink blood, or turn into bats or fly. They used mirrors just like you or me and most certainly were not undead. It did not take a stake-to-the-heart to kill them. Though that would do it, just as it would for anybody. There were not even fangs. But these creatures were extraordinarily long-lived, fed off humans, and had the means to control us. Also, back then, when I found them, they were just as deadly as the stories suggested.
Jennifer was the catalyst to the reaction that changed my life forever. Looking back, I think my fate was probably inevitable. My studies had already put me on the path. But it was my best buddy, Jennifer, who was responsible for giving me the push that made it happen sooner rather than later.
Neither of us had taken a gap year before uni. So Jennifer was keen to see the world before seeking employment or marrying money. I, on the other hand, had money. But I was in no rush to become a wage slave. So Jennifer's insistence that I accompany her on her travels was not met with any resistance. Especially as I had been carrying a torch for the girl since I first met her three years ago. But when she suggested travelling across Europe, to eventually arrive in Berlin, I just could not refuse. "Who knows, Syd," she said, "You may find your vampires." That was enough, I was sold!
It had taken me some time to work out that Jenny and I, was never going to be a thing. Her first words to me had been, "Any fit boys in your dorm?"
I'd quickly responded with, "I dunno, but there's a fit girl in front of me."
Jenny had kindly rejected my advance but gone on to be my staunchest friend and ally for the next three years. Jenny, unlike me, liked boys too and was more interested in having me as a friend than a lover. With both of us inclined to be submissive in bed, we would never have made a good couple. But we always looked out for each other, and a lucky domme lady had enjoyed a ménage à trois with us while at uni. Lots of bondage fun, and I got to eat out my friend while the dominatrix spanked her.
So, in the summer of nineteen eighty, with the nation reeling from the news that two million were now unemployed, Jenny and I boarded the ferry for Calais.
We had a lot of fun before, some weeks later, we found ourselves in a very raunchy club in West Berlin. The atmosphere was extremely... I want to say 'grown-up' because 'adult' does not cover it. Lots of the places we had been people had seemed very earnest. Here the stakes seemed to be higher than just people's egos. I couldn't put my finger on what was different, but there was a subtle steely edge to proceedings. At the time, I put it down to West Berlin's uniqueness, being surrounded by The Wall. Now... Now I know different.
I was a fair number of drinks in, and fairly tipsy, before I spotted Ruth. But once I had, I could not stop staring. I mean, there was quite a lot that made her stand out. First off, she was dressed for sex, and I don't mean nude. Next, she was black. Now, I don't mean black as in being African. Ruth's skin was black, pitch black. Her hair, in a pixie cut, was snow white and her eyes a piercing blue. Which, along with sharp angular features, seemed to jar with her skin colour. Then there were her ears. They were shaped like Mr Spock's from Star Trek and adorned with silver chains. The exotic woman looked alien and, at the time, I was sure her appearance was down to make-up.
But I was captivated. Ruth's strange appearance oozed sex appeal. Her colouration notwithstanding, she was stunningly beautiful, and her fetish inspired outfit left nothing to the imagination.
Ruth caught me staring and responded by staring back. I found myself blushing to which Ruth smiled. I remember being relieved that she had normal human teeth, and not fangs of some sort. She beckoned me over.
"Are you alone?" She asked after introducing herself and asking my name. Her directness caught me off guard. Her German was flawless, but there was an accent I did not recognise.
"I'm here with a friend, but I'm single if that is what you are driving at."
"Where is your friend?"
I threw a casual nod to the bar, where Jenny was 'talking' to a local piece of beefcake wrapped in dark leather. "Ah, she has found Hector," responded Ruth. "He is not hungry at the moment, and so safe. But she would be better served to accompany us if you can persuade her."
"We are going somewhere?" Her presumptuousness amused me. Ruth lifted a single eyebrow as I spoke.
"Yes, girl, we are. There is an air about you I think my Mistress would enjoy. She likes British girls, says you are delicious."
"Your Mistress?" I enquired, my gaze alighting on the polished metal collar around her throat.
"Yes, my Mistress. I am owned and my owner, my love... I hope she may like you and your friend."
"Like... how exactly?"
Her bright white grin shone out from her shadowy countenance, "Girl, my love can make you come so hard you'll beg to be her slave, in the hope it may happen again."
"Are you not enough for her?"
"She likes to try new... flavours."
"What if I don't want your Mistress? What if it's what I see now that I'm interested in?"
Ruth smiled once more, "Join me in service to my love, and you'll find me an attentive and regular lover, girl."
I was intrigued, but unsure why I should drag Jenny into this. She seemed busy enough with the leather-clad tower of muscle. "You need my friend, why?"
"I don't, though she is very pretty. But Hector has a habit of getting carried away... Losing control... It'd be better for her if she joined us. Trust me, I'm doing you a favour here."
Her languid pose convinced me she was telling the truth, and so I made my way over to Jenny. Placing my chin on her shoulder, I whispered, "you need to follow me, dump the guy, I'll explain after."
Jenny looked hard at me. "Drunk?"
"Prolly, love, but this is important."
Jenny turned to the wall of beef and leather, "Hector, darling, I have to powder my nose."
His voice was as deep as his chest was broad, "Hurry back, little mouse, or I may decide to feed elsewhere."
Jenny linked arms with me and followed me back to Ruth, who stood as we approached and led us from the club.
"What was the problem with Hector?" Enquired Jenny as we walked.
"I've been told he loses control in passion and hurts people."
"Oh? Bullet dodged then. So who's the samaritan we are following?"
"Called Ruth, clearly into some kinky shit. Taking us to meet her Mistress."
"Bondage games?"
"Could be, she's wearing a fancy collar, and that outfit screams fetish fun."
Ruth was waiting by an enormous limo, probably a Zil or a Volvo. As we approached the car, a door was opened for us, and we willingly climbed in. Ruth followed after.
Waiting inside was a stunningly attractive woman who seemed totally unfazed by the heat within. I've read somewhere that we perceive facial symmetry as attractive and indicative of beauty. A subliminal cue that few pick up on. But this was one of the first things I noticed about this stunner. Large dark eyes invited me to drown in her stare as I fought not to blush under her scrutiny.
"Greetings, ladies, I am Mistress Vanda. I am the owner of Ruth, who is my famula. Before we set off, just in case Ruth was not clear, I am looking for some sexual fun. My tastes run to bondage, S&M and other such games," her gaze alternated between Jenny and me. Ruth was now forgotten, I wanted this siren to myself. "I offer one night of entertainment only. I promise total sexual satisfaction. I may, if you please me, offer you more. Though the price to continue on is high."
Mistress Vanda chose that moment to smile. It lit up the car with its radiance. "Now, you need do very little yourselves, girls. But two things you must do. The first is to forget any hang-ups or preconceived ideas you may have about your tastes or sexuality. The second, and this is very important, is obey."
Her expression turned serious. "Ladies, do you think you can do that? Are you willing to submit and obey?"
"Yes, Mistress Vanda," I blurted out. Though it almost caught me by surprise, as if another had said it for me. Equally surprising was to hear Jenny echo my words a fraction of a second after me. I turned to look at my friend, to see her as enthralled with our new acquaintance as I was.
Mistress Vanda smiled once more, and my spirits were again lifted. She raised a slender arm and rapped with her knuckles on the glass that divided us from the driver. The limousine smoothly set off to parts unknown.
Next Chapter;
